


The Five Day Forecast

by cosmic_medusa



Series: Two in the Snow [4]
Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: M/M, Quentin Tarantino References, Too much cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 23:04:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20647175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_medusa/pseuds/cosmic_medusa
Summary: Larry is cat-blocked in the midst of enjoying a very eager Freddy.





	The Five Day Forecast

**CANADA, 2006**

Larry is trying—and largely failing—to do a fucking crossword puzzle, while trying very hard to ignore the fact that he’s become the type of guy who sits on his couch on a Sunday night trying to _do_ a fucking crossword puzzle, when he finds himself with a lap full of Freddy.

“Stormtracker says we’re gonna get three or four days of snow,” the younger man says, hooking his hands behind Larry’s neck while his knees settle on either side of the elder man’s thighs. “Roads will be impassable up here until it blows over, then the plows will come through.”

“Huh,” Larry says, feigning concern. Freddy’s eyes are bright with excitement, his grin clearly eager. “Man,” he sighs, and sets down his pen. “Well, we’re gonna have to change the answering machine at the store. Put up the ‘ring the bell and we’ll be open!’ sign. Run the water so the pipes don’t freeze. Get some extra firewood, in case we lose power. Call the neighbors, check in. Check that the truck has its chains on—”

Freddy kisses him, hard, closed mouthed at first, then slowly working his way inward, running his tongue over Larry’s lips, pulling his arms in tighter and tighter, until he’s burrowing half-down his throat and grinding their crotches together. Larry rubs his hands up and down his back and gives him a playful smack on the ass, something that earns him a bite on his bottom lip, and he can feel them both their dicks starting to stiffen.

Freddy pulls back and presses their foreheads together, and Larry continues—“make sure we’ve got all we need for Blue, send an email to any customers who want shipping—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Freddy grins.

“What? We run a serious business. One of us has to look out for it.”

“Worry about yourself,” the younger man beams, then leans in and bites Larry’s earlobe. “Because you’re mine for the next three days.”

“With age comes wisdom and endurance, kiddo,” Dimick smirks, then half throws the younger man on his back on the sofa, pins him down, and brings their mouths together.

“Three whole days, old man—you think you can keep up?”

“I think—” Larry leaned down and sank his teeth into his neck, pinning Freddy’s hands when he moans and tries to writhe, “—that you have three whole days—” he moves to his chest and nips over his collarbone, “—and not a single person to hear a sound you make.”

“Get the fuck up here,” Freddy pants.

“Sorry, can’t hear you.”

Freddy seizes his hair and yanks him upward; Larry grins and pulls back when he tries to kiss him. “Mother_fucker_!”

“What was that? Old man ears. Can’t—”

Freddy launches himself free of his grip and slams into his mouth, trying to match their lips as Larry laughs. The elder man reaches down and scratches the younger’s ribs, than wraps his left hand around to grab his ass, already gleefully imagining the pornographic anthology that would make up their next few days—

and then the fuckin’ cat whines.

Larry has fucked enough women and men both to be sage in experience, but he’s never had anyone lose interest faster then Freddy when he thinks there’s a problem with the fucking cat. 

“We didn’t feed Blue yet!” Freddy cries, and half-tosses Larry off the couch as he launches toward the kitchen.

“Told you we should have gotten a fuckin’ dog!” Larry barks. Both Freddy and Blue turn to him with alarmingly similar expressions of disdain before Freddy vanishes into the kitchen.

“Man’s best friend, cockblocker,” he hisses at Blue, who puts her tail up and saunters away from him, like a giant middle finger that says _my Freddy._

Larry lays on the couch, dick half-hard, mind alternating between the store, the porno he still hoped would be the next few days, and drowning their stupid fucking cat, before he finds his pen on the floor, his newspaper half-in the sofa arm, and goes back to his fucking crossword puzzle.

Off in the bedroom, the radio chirps "and the five day forecast is snow, snow, snow! Gather in close and get ready for the long haul. For suggestions on how to keep busy, visit our website at CWENewslocal.com. And be sure to stay warm!"

Blue leaps up on the bed and curls up in the spot Freddy had left vacant when he'd heard the prediction. There'd be a lot of time in bed for them the next few days, which was how she liked it, even if Freddy was spooning out her dinner in the kitchen. 

She wasn't hungry anyway. 


End file.
